Chapter Ten

Together Amelie and I, move down the hall flanked by the two men that had been set to protect us. They are obviously out of shape, and I doubt either of them could do much to protect us against any attacker with even the slightest of training. I have to fight back a smile at the knowledge that one of the women they are set to defend would very likely end up protecting them during any serious confrontation.

Amelie nudges me. "You look pleased."

The smile sweeps unbidden across my face, and I discreetly indicate to the heavily breathing men a few paces behind us. "Just amused by our current predicament."

Amelie's eyes twinkle as a small smile of her own tips the corners of her lips. My heart rate picks up and I immediately force my eyes to the smooth stone floor. How long is this dream going to encourage these kinds of responses for?

I am about to sit to breakfast with my husband to be and pretend that I am not profoundly excited by the woman sitting beside me. Talk about navigating an emotional minefield.

We walk through a set of heavy wooden doors and Arthur turns from William and beams at me from beside the crackling fireplace. He is clothed in rich blue fabric that sets off the green in his eyes and the red in his auburn hair in a pleasing manner. He really is undeniably handsome. I try my best to get my body to respond to his smile the way it had Amelie's with zero success.

He sweeps over and takes my hands in his hot ones. "Good morning, Elizabeth," he says with his voice laced with charm. "Did you rest well?"

I nod, forcing my hands to stay within his grasp. "My rooms are wonderful, thank you."

He guides me to a dining table set close to the fireplace and pulls out a chair. From the corner of my eye, I see William offering the same courtesy to Amelie.

Arthur raises his hand and a cluster of servants I hadn't noticed before, sweep in from the edges of the room and place items of food on the table. Each of our cups are filled with a rich orange liquid and I look at it with a keen interest. At my father's home the only drinks ever served at meals were tea and wine.

"It is orange juice," Arthur says with a smile. "I hope you do not mind, but I forbid the consumption of wine and mead before midday. I find men are easily encouraged to behave in an undignified manner if they have continuous access to the drink."

A smile spreads across my lips. "It pleases me greatly to hear your opinion on the matter." I take a sip of the orange juice and the sweet tangy flavour spills over my tongue. "I have never had this before, but it is quite enjoyable."

Arthur smiles. "It is one of my favourites."

Silence settles over the table as we fill our plates. I poke at my eggs with my fork and wonder if I am allowed to bring up my desire to know more about our attackers, or if I should wait for Arthur to indicate he is ready to speak about it. Amelie on the other hand seems to have no such qualms.

"What of the men that attacked us yesterday?" Amelie asks, as she eats easily from her plate. "Is there any further reason to believe Elizabeth is unsafe?"

Arthur raises his eyebrow. "It is refreshing to see a woman who is not afraid to speak her mind."

I glance at Arthur trying to decipher if this is a veiled attack on her outspoken ways, or if he is genuinely pleased. My hand finds Amelie's under the table, and I lace my fingers in with hers, giving her hand a gentle squeeze of support.

"That does not answer my question," Amelie remarks dryly.

Arthur smiles. "You are quite right. I apologise. Unfortunately, I do know one of the men who attacked you and I am ashamed to say he was someone I had considered to be a close friend." He pauses and stares into the fire. "I find I both grieve and applaud his passing. It is a peculiar combination of emotions." William places his hand on Arthur's shoulder, and he visibly relaxes before returning his attention to us. "Knowing John as I did, I am also confident that he wouldn't have acted alone. John was sorely motivated by greed for money and status and was easily influenced by the possibility of either."

"So, you think someone put him up to it?" Amelie asks.

Arthur nods. "Unfortunately, yes." He places his knife and fork on the table apparently unable to continue his meal. "This has led me to conclude that whoever put John up to this unseemly task is unlikely to halt their endeavours."

William turns to us, and his eyes once again hold distain for me. "Arthur has received many letters in regard to your union. Many of them contain threats against the two of you, should you continue to pursue the marriage."

"Elizabeth's family have received these letters as well," Amelie remarks as she sits back in her chair and begins to rub her thumb over the back of my hand causing a wave of tingles to spread across my skin.

William looks at me in shock. "And you still came?"

"Father is also heavily influenced by the possibility of money or status. My opinion on the topic was irrelevant," I reply quietly.

For the first time William looks at me with something akin to kindness, a softness in his eyes I had yet to see for anyone except Arthur.

Arthur seems distressed. "Do you wish to proceed with the marriage? I will not force you to become my wife."

I sit back in my chair, shocked by the question and I take a moment to think on it. "My father will force me to marry someone. At least you appear to be kind, I think you and I could find a way to grow fond of one another."

Arthur nods. "My family's circumstances will force me to marry also. It would seem we are the perfect match."

"Except for all the death threats," Amelie mutters, gripping my hand tightly.

Arthur lets out a deep rumble of laughter. "Yes, I suppose we will still have to contend with those."

"Do you know who may be behind these attempts?" I ask.

"There are too many possibilities to narrow it down," William says dryly. "Arthur has a claim to the throne and however unlikely it is that he would reach for it, there are those who do not want a mixed class marriage watering down the blood line."

"You are in line for the throne?" Amelie asks in disbelief.

"Ridiculously far down the line," Arthur says with a wave of his hand. "Several people would have to die or abdicate for my claim to be worth anything."

"Stranger claims to the throne have happened," Amelie says slowly.

"I do not want it," Arthur says firmly. "You should know, should it ever come up, I would do everything I could to pass it to another."

"That is very likely the reason you should be the one to have it," I say quietly. Amelie and William nod in agreement which only seems to agitate Arthur further.

"I will not have it and the conversation about it ends here," Arthur says firmly.

"You are right," Amelie says. "Your lineage will largely protect you from harm, but what of Elizabeth?"

"I have had an announcement written up that will be announced publicly today, making it clear that any attack on Elizabeth is an attack on me," Arthur says. "Although, I worry it will do little until our union is solidified."

"Could the ceremony be moved forward?" I ask surprising myself.

Everyone at the table seems taken aback. Eventually Arthur says, "It would have to be negotiated with your father and a letter from you to your mother along the same lines could allow us to make adjustments."

"I will write the letter, but you should know, Mother has very little sway with my father," I say trying to make it very clear the position women hold in my family.

"Let us hope your desire to be wed sooner and your father's desire for status, result in the outcome we are searching for," Arthur says gently. "I assure you, regardless of the timeline, I will do all I can to ensure your protection."

I squeeze Amelie's hand, thinking there is nothing he could do that would make me feel safer than to allow me to remain under Amelie's protection.

"It is appreciated," I say diplomatically.

He nods. "I have more bad news," he remarks gravely. "My mother and stepfather will be arriving at the end of next week. A whole month earlier than initially organised."

"Bad news?" Amelie replies with an amused smile.

"Indeed," Arthur says. "My stepfather can be…" he pauses searching for a word.

"Difficult," William supplies.

Arthur nods. "Well put," he smiles warmly at William. "He is a puritan."

"At least, when it suits him," William mutters as he stares at his plate.

"I thought the puritans were gone?" I say in disbelief.

"Most of them," Arthur agrees. "My stepfathers family held a lot of power during the puritan era, and he is eager to remind everyone as often as possible how he is infinitely more superior."

"He is quite enthusiastically to encourage Arthor to be more ambitious," William says darkly.

"Yes. The marriage to my mother was just a means to an end," Arthur agrees before finishing off his juice.

"He is hopeful to return to power?" Amelie asks.

"It is very rare for men to willingly give up a high-ranking position," William agrees. "His families fall came with the reinstatement of the monarchy."

Silence settles over the space and for a long moment only the clink of cutlery and the crackle of the fire can be heard.

"I have some estate matters to attend to and a few things I need to follow up on in regard to the attack yesterday." Arthur says with a warm smile. "However, I would be a very happy man if you should consider attending dinner with me."

Amelie places my palm on her thigh and traces soft lines on the back of my hand making it incredibly difficult to focus on anything else.

I swallow. "I would love to," I manage to say in a steady voice even as I become increasingly aware of Amelie's body heat through her dress. I chance a glance at her, and she is paying attention to everything at the table and looking completely innocent. Like she isn't driving me mad with soft caresses shared beneath the table. I take a steadying breath. It is highly likely I am still affected by my dream and Amelie means nothing more than to be a reassuring friend.

Arthur rises from his seat and gives us a small bow. "I look forward to seeing you ladies again at dinner time."

I force a smile on my face until the door closes firmly behind them. I look towards Amelie and the servants still attending us around the room and wonder how to address the contact without seeming improper. Amelie glances at me and her eyes lock with mine. I am sure I see her gaze darken at my expression and I try to decipher the way it makes my heart hammer in my chest.

"Are you still tired from your ordeal yesterday?" she asks, but not for a second stilling the fingers tracing light patterns on the back of my hand and wrist. I should move my hand from her thigh, it is inappropriate. The problem is, I really don't want to.

"Yes," I breathe, latching on to the out she had provided. "I think I will retire to my rooms."

Amelie rises from her seat with me and darts over to one of the servants on the side of the room. They talk quietly for a moment before the servant bows and exits the dining hall. When Amelie returns, we move down the hall back towards our room. This time accompanied by two much younger and fitter men. The one with long flowing black hair leers at me. His strong jaw and features would make him attractive if it wasn't for the dreadful vibe of discomfort that seems to emanate from nearness to him.

Amelie seems to notice it too, actively placing herself between me and the leering man. The trip to our room is silent and hurried. I try to measure my paces, but I feel a great deal of discomfort being so close to the man set to protect us. The moment we slip into the room Amelie closes the door and checks the room for any intruders.

"Under no circumstances are you to allow yourself to be alone with that man," Amelie says quietly as she tows me around the room with her, a firm grip on my hand.

"Trust me, I have zero desire to do so," I say with a shudder.

After every possible hiding place has been checked she moves me over to the fire, now only embers and guides me into the chair beside it.

"Sit," she commands and my body tingles with the authority in her voice.

There is a knock at the door, and she moves towards the sound, disappearing out of view. When she returns, it is with a tray laden with items from the breakfast table, and a hot pot of tea. Suddenly, I feel quite hungry as I realise I had eaten very little at breakfast. I collect an assortment of breads and cheeses before digging in enthusiastically.

Amelie watches me keenly as she sips her tea.

I smile at the capable woman and my thoughts drift to the creepy man outside and I realise how vulnerable I would be without her. Scratch that. Without her, I would already be dead.

"Can you teach me how to defend myself?" I ask.

Amelie raises her eyebrow. "I can, but it will take practice."

I nod. "Can we start today?"

"It can be physically taxing," she says quietly. "Especially at first."

I nod, suddenly the idea grows in its appeal. Perhaps it can help as a release from the energy and frustration I still seem to possess from the dream.

"Let's start now," I say firmly.

She raises an eyebrow in amusement. "Finish eating first."